To his credit, Justin pushed off the girl, leaving her in the bed as he yanked on boxers. He was moving over to me and his hands reaching for me as he started rubbing my back.

My heart thundering in my chest as the white noise of shock filled my ears. He tried to steer me away from the bedroom, heavy with the smell of sweat and sex and my vomit.

His arm around me as he guided me away from what I had just seen was supposed to be comforting but felt like a shackle, chaining me to a bad situation. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t even hear him, the tears pouring from my eyes as I shook.

I tried to rub my arms, get some sense of feeling back into them as I forced myself to take some steady breaths.

My mind was trying to process everything that was going on but all I could think about was he had fucked someone else. I had seen him fucking someone else.

He had cheated on me.

All the reasons I wasn’t enough for him flooding my mind.

I just wanted to call my friends and let them know that Justin was as terrible as they thought. I wanted to eat junk food in bed with them and hear about all their bad run ins with men to make me feel better. To normalize the hurt.

“Get your hands off my fiancée before I’m forced to remove them for you.”

Dante’s imposing figure was filling the doorway and I felt myself flush more from his words.

Or maybe it was him seeing me like this.

Rejected by another man I had come to break up with and finding out that he had never cared about me to begin with.

Coming back into my body with a whoosh. I tried to not freak out

Just when I had thought my embarrassment couldn’t get any higher here he was, witnessing what I was sure was one of the lowest moments of my life.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

5DANTE

Iknew that she wasn’t going to be able to do this in five minutes.

Two minutes in and I was heading up the elevator to see what Ilaria was doing.

Part of me expected to see her just standing in front of the door, texting someone and ignoring what I told her to do. But when I saw her it was much worse.

As soon as I saw her use her key to get in the apartment I was already aware something bad was going to happen.

I made it to the bastards front door as she opened his bedroom door, freezing as I caught the movement of people on a bed in front of her before she was bending over and spilling her guts out.

Christ.

I grimaced, watching the way she was trembling and thinking about how I was going to have to kill this schmuck now for upsetting my bride. This was an act of disrespect and no one with the Luchese last name would tolerate that.

My teeth were grinding together as he steered her away, whispering to her and stroking her hair like his cock wasn’t buried four inches into the girl who was gathering her things from the bedroom and trying to sneak out from the crime scene she had just been a part of.

How dare he think he can touch her.

“Ilaria, come here.” I spoke softly to her, seeing how upset she was from everything.

For a moment I regretted making her do this.

My anger had made me want to punish her, make her face this herself but if we were getting married I never would make her face things alone.

What a fool I was.

I held out my arms as she stepped forward, shrugging out of the shit bag’s grasp. Her eyes were on me for a second and my heart caught in my chest as I saw her tears, leaking out before she looked down.

Well, this bastard was going to die.

No one was going to make my fiancée cry.

“Principessa.” I tested the nickname as she stops right before coming into my arms. The palm of her hand pressing against her cheeks as she sniffles and shudders, trying to keep a sob in.

She was trying so hard to be strong but I didn’t need her strength right now. I needed her in my arms, where I could feel her and know she was safe.

“I threw up.”

Ilaria’s eyes were looking down and I reached for her chin, not wanting her to be upset about anything. My mind was already blaming me for bringing us here.

I look at her and she doesn’t have puke on her but I can see that she’s embarrassed. I’m not here to humiliate her so I step forward, draping my coat over her shoulders and pulling her to me as I take her chin and pull it up so she’s forced to look at me.

Ilaria is short 5 ‘6 at most with her heels on so I’m towering over her at  6’ 4, as I force her eyes to meet mine.

“I’m sorry I didn’t hold your hair back, principessa.” I’m out of practice with soothing people.

Honestly, I don’t know if I ever even tried to.

I use the Italian name to soften the teasing and change it to an endearment and I see the way she breathes out, as I let go of her chin and use my arm to tuck her against me.

Her hands circle my waist and I want to take a second as I cup the back of her head to just appreciate her clinging to me, trusting me in this moment. Her trust feels like an aphrodisiac, a promise, and hope all wrapped into one.

This marriage won’t survive without trust and here we are, already making giant strides.

All thoughts of her being a spoiled brat have gone from my mind as I fall into line ready to give her the world if she wants.

The Ilaria effect is strong.

“Who the fuck are you?” The shit stain speaks to me like he has any right to do so.

I don’t want him near Ilaria.

The moment I was sharing with her is tarnished as the shit for brains ex boyfriend speaks, making my eyes go from the dark chocolate of Ilaria’s soft curls to him, standing in his boxers. A stain on the front from the wet stickiness of someone else’s cunt.

How dare he be around her like this.